按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
o Albi to see how my cousin is。〃 （April 12； 1819。）
Honore de Balzac was intoxicated with his liberty； and revelled in it to his heart's content。 He could dream； idle； read or work； according to his mood。 Ideas swarmed in his brain； and every day he drafted projects for tragedies； comedies； novels and operas。 He did not know which of all these to work out to a finish； for every one of them seemed to him capable of being developed into a masterpiece。 He brooded over a possible novel which was to be called Coquecigrue； but he doubted whether he had the ability to carry it out according to his conception； so； after long hesitation； he decided in favour of a classic drama in verse； Cromwell； which he considered the finest subject in modern history。 Honore de Balzac rhymed ahead desperately； laboriously； for versification was not his strong point； and he had infinite trouble in expressing； with the required dignity； the lamentations of the Queen of England。 His study of the great masters hampered him： 〃I devour our four tragic authors。 Crebillon reassures me； Voltaire fills me with terror； Corneille transports me； and Racine makes me throw down my pen。〃 Nevertheless； he refused to renounce his hopes。 He had promised to produce a masterpiece； he was pledged to achieve a masterpiece； and the price of it was to be a blessed independence。
In the silence of his mansarde garret he worked； with his brow congested； his head enveloped in a Dantesque cap； his legs wrapped in a venerable Touraine great…coat； his shoulders guaranteed against the cold； thanks to an old family shawl。 He toiled over his alexandrian lines； he sent fragments of his tragedy to Laure； asking her for advice： 〃Don't flatter me； be severe。〃 Yet he had high ambitions： 〃I want my tragedy to be the breviary of peoples and kings！〃 he wrote。 〃I must make my debut with a masterpiece； or wring my neck。〃
Meanwhile Cromwell did not wholly absorb him。 Honore de Balzac was already a fluent writer； full of clamorous ideas and schemes that each day were born anew。 Between two speeches of his play； he would sketch a brief romance of the old…fashioned type； draft the rhymes of a comic opera； which he would later decide to give up； because of the difficulty of finding a composer； hampered as he was by his isolation。 In addition to his literary occupations； he took an anxious interest in politics。 〃I am more than ever attached to my career；〃 he wrote to his sister Laure； 〃for a host of reasons； of which I will give you only those that you would not be likely to guess of your own accord。 Our revolutions are very far from being ended； considering the way that things are going； I foresee many a coming storm。 Good or bad； the representative system demands immense talent； big writers will necessarily be sought after in political crises； for do they not supplement their other knowledge with the spirit of observation and a profound understanding of the human heart？
〃If I should become a shining light （which； of course； is precisely the thing that we do not yet know）； I may some day achieve something besides a literary reputation； and add to the title of 'great writer' that of great citizen。 That is an ambition which is also tempting！ Nothing； nothing but love and glory can ever fill the vast recesses of my heart； within which you are cherished as you deserve to be。〃
In order to enlighten himself in regard to the legislative elections； he appealed to one of his correspondents； M。 Dablin； a rich hardware merchant and friend of the family； who had often come to the aid of his slender purse。 He asked him for a list of the deputies； and inquired what their political opinions were and how the parties would be divided in the new Chamber； and when he did not receive as prompt an answer as he had expected； he repeated his questions with a certain show of impatience。 At this period of isolation； M。 Dablin was also his factotum and his mentor。 Balzac commissioned him to buy a Bible； carefully specifying that the text must be in French as well as Latin； he wished to read the Sicilian Vespers； he felt it his duty； as a simple soldier in the ranks of literature； to attend a performance of Cinna； by the great General Corneille； from the safe seclusion of a screened box； and he would be glad to see Girodet's Endymion at the Exposition； 〃some morning when there is no one else there；〃 in order not to betray his incognito！
How happy he was during those hours of liberty that were never to return and which he was destined to remember with unparalleled emotion； in his subsequent inferno of ceaseless toil！ He was utterly irresponsible； he made an orgy out of a melon or a jar of preserves sent him from Villeparisis； and he decorated his garret with flowers； which were the gift of Laure； his beloved confidante。 He had his dreams and his hours of exultation； when he listened to the mingled sounds of Paris； which rose faintly to his dormer window during the beautiful golden evenings of springtime； evenings that seemed to young and ambitious hearts so heavy…laden with ardent melancholy and hope； and he would cry aloud： 〃I realised today that wealth does not make happiness； and that the time that I am spending here will be a source of sweet memories！ To live according to my fantasy； to work according to my taste and convenience； to do nothing at all if I so choose； to build beautiful air…castles for the future； to think of you and know that you are happy； to have Rousseau's Julie for my mistress； La Fontaine and Moliere for my friends； Racine for my master and the cemetery of Pere Lachaise for my promenade！ 。 。 。 Oh！ if all this could last forever！〃
And his twenty years； burning with the fever of vast desires； betray themselves in a single exclamation： 〃To be celebrated and to be loved！〃
But there were times when he left his garret at nightfall； mingled with the crowd and there exercised those marvellous faculties of his which verged upon prodigy。 He has described them in a short tale； Facino Cano； and they appear to have been an exceptional gift。 〃I lived frugally；〃 he writes； 〃I had accepted all the conditions of monastic life； so essential to those who toil。 Even when the weather was fine； I rarely allowed myself a short walk along the Boulevard Bourdon。 One passion alone drew me away from my studious habits； yet was not this itself a form of study？ I used to go to observe the manners and customs of suburban Paris； its inhabitants and their characteristics。 Being as ill…clad and as careless of appearances as the labourers themselves； I was not mistrusted by them； I was able to mingle with groups of them； to watch them concluding their bargains and quarrelling together at the hour when they quit their work。 In my case； observation had already become intuitive； it penetrated the soul without neglecting the body； or rather it grasped so well the exterior details that it straightway passed above and beyond them； it gave me the faculty of living the life of the individual on whom it was exerted； by permitting me to substitute myself for him； just as the dervish in the Thousand and One Nights took the body and soul of those persons over whom he pronounced certain words。
〃To throw off my own habits； to become some one else than myself； through an intoxication of the moral faculties； and to play this game at will； such was my way of amusing myself。 To what do I owe this gift？ Is it a form of second sight？ Is it one of those qualities； the abuse of which might lead to madness？ I have never sought the sources of this power； I possess it and make use of it； that is all。〃
Some evenings he would not go out； because ideas were surging in his brain； but if the rebellious rhymes refused to come he would descend to the second floor and play some harmless games with certain 〃persons；〃 or it might be a hand at boston； for small stakes； at which he sometimes won as much as three francs。 His resounding laughter could be heard； echoing down the staircase as he remounted to his garret； exulting over his extensive winnings。 Nothing； however； could turn him aside from his project of writing Cromwell； and he set himself a date on which he should present his tragedy to the members of his family gathered together for the purpose of hearing him read it。 After idling away long days at the Jardin des Plantes or in Pere…Lachaise； he shut himself in； and wrote with that feverish zeal which later on he himself christened 〃Balzacian〃； revising； erasing； condensing； expanding； alternating between despair and enthusiasm； believing himself a genius； and yet within the same hour； in the face of a phrase that refused to come right； lamenting that he was utterly destitute of talent； yet throughout this ardent and painful effort of creation； over which he groaned； his strength of purpose never abandoned him； and in spite of everything he inflexibly pursued his ungoverned course towards the goal which he had set himself。 At last he triumphed； the tragedy was finished； and； his heart swelling with hope； Honore de Balzac presented to his family the Cromwell on which he relied to assure his liberty。
The members of the family were gathered together in the parlour at Villeparisis； for the purpose of judging the masterpiece and deciding whether th